So, I propped myself up, sleepily, wondering why I had the headache in the first place, and wishing it would just go away. It occurred to me that if stress was the cause, praying or meditating would surely help. Only I couldn't get still enough in my being for meditation, and I couldn't form words for prayer.
It wasn't so much pain that stopped me from being able to pray as the fact of the headache's crashing--there just wasn't any room left in my head for forming thoughts or words. (I swear this is new to me. I never have headaches.)
So, there in the darkness, to help me with forming words, I reached for my Rosary. The one from Medjugorie that Doris gave me. Fingering the flat blue beads didn't help me feel better, exactly. But somehow, just by holding the Rosary in my hands, I was telling myself, "I am connected. Connection is my only intention. So I am, after all, able to pray." Even saying the words "Hail Mary" in my mind was almost impossible. But by the time I'd finished a decade, I fell asleep.
Joyce Rupp once told me that we only pray as well as we ARE. Jesus said it this way: The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. I'll say.
And some things fell into place yesterday in terms of resolution and better communication. I'm referring to my post in Shhh. . .the one from yesterday about my body being on high alert. I feel safe again, and hopeful. Protected and held. Secure enough to move forward. And a little more free.
I've also noticed the past few days that sometimes we're not able to talk about things until they're fully percolated on the inside. Sometimes it takes a while. During those times, we carry a lot. Which is something for us to remember about each other. Everyone we meet is carrying a lot most of the time, and one of the most helpful things to do is to try and be aware of that.
And then I had an email this morning from Helen, who read the Shhh post and asked me when I'd become Superwoman? I've been told by others that I do too much, though it doesn't feel like that to me. I just like to say, "Life is FULL." So, how does Helen happen to know that, all the way from Ireland? She gave me a lot to ponder.
Maybe doing too much is why I've felt those recent urges to close up shop. Enough for now. I have a few things to do.